What is left of our hero
by Loufoca
Summary: What if Rita Skeeter re-wrote the last chapter of the Deathly Hallows? The future would not be as peaceful as Rowling thought...


**Hi everybody,**

**If you didn't like the last chapter of the Deathly Hallows, this story is for you! I wrote this story as a challenge, taking exactly the same events of the epilogue but changing the point of view. It's mean, twisted and not serious at all.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Rita Skeeter, or any other character created by J.K. Rowling.**

**This story was originally written in French. I would like to thank Lady Lavender-Moon and Lupinette for their amazing beta-reading work on my translation.**

**Enjoy!**

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**What is left of our hero**

That year, autumn seemed to come abruptly. The humidity in King's Cross station was irritating Rita's rheumatism. However, the sixty-six year-old former journalist was still in good shape. At least, that was what she was thinking when she was contemplating herself every morning in the mirror. It has to be said that Rita was taking care of herself stubbornly and she was not afraid to spend a large part of her immense wealth in anti-age treatments of all kinds.

Yes, Rita was still a beautiful woman. She had built her fortune by writing scandalous biographies about socialites of the magic society: sport, politics, finance celebrities, nobody could escape her sharp quill. Well, almost nobody. There was one socialite who was still missing to her list, the only one she had not been allowed to approach for the last twenty years. And that person had just arrived in front of the barrier separating the platforms 9 and 10, with his whole family.

"It won't be long, you'll go too," quipped Harry Potter to his youngest daughter who was whining.

The girl probably wanted to accompany her brothers to Hogwarts. But she didn't know that her future departure in two years would toll the bell of her parents' marriage. Harry and Ginny had indeed agreed to stay together only until then.

Rita stayed hidden to spy the family without being disturbed. They were trying hard to keep up appearances but tomorrow at the same hour, the entire magic world would know the whole truth about the Boy-Who-Killed-The-Darkest-Wizard-Of-All-Times and his cheap junk life.

The Potter boys were arguing, as usual. Apparently, the recurring subject was the entry of the youngest, Albus Severus, in Hogwarts and the choice of his future house. The oldest, James Sirius, was swaggering around because he was in the mighty Gryffindor house.

"Yeah, a real Gryffy this one!" she muttered for herself, "Brat."

She hoped maliciously that Albus Severus would be assigned to Slytherin. However, she felt a little sorry for the boy: he already had the two most unbearable names of the earth and he was perhaps going to be the ugly duckling of the family. Rita thought suddenly that "Ugly duckling" would make a fine chapter title.

It had been twenty long years that she was waiting to publish THE book, the biography that could make her even more successful than she was already. She would become a legend, with a story even juicier than the pink underpants of Minerva McGonagall, actual Headmistress of Hogwarts.

"You see Albus," she triumphed, her thoughts jumping to the former headmaster, "you thought that having to wait for twenty years would temper my spirit, but you were wrong!"

She remembered vividly the conversation she had with the former Headmaster of Hogwarts:

"Rita, I must ask you a favour."

He had turned up unexpected at her place, on this day of May 1997. At first, she had wanted to kick him out but she had thought that if the old fool needed her, it might bring her a lot - money or fame, any choice.

"What can I do for you, Professor?" had she replied before inviting him to sit with an unctuous voice.

"I want you to write my biography."

Having heard that, she had thought that the old man was even more deranged than she had believed. Had he really asked her to nose around his past and bring out his undisclosed secrets?

"Yes, that's exactly what I had in mind," Dumbledore had confirmed. "My life contains many dark secrets and I cannot reveal them myself without influencing the only person who must absolutely know them."

"I don't understand" Rita had mumbled.

"You will get it when you have all details. But before giving them, you must make two promises and that part is non-negotiable. Of course, these promises will constitute a magical contract and you will not be able to break them."

"How can I know that it's worth it?" she snapped.

"Trust me, you have here the opportunity to write the best-selling book of our whole magical society. You will become a celebrity by doing what you like most: finding out skeletons in a cupboard. And in this case, it is more than just a figure of speech."

Rita had considered the offer carefully and had asked what promises she was supposed to make.

"You cannot publish this biography before my death. Don't argue, you will not have to wait long!"

She had taken note of that and had thought that she should start working immediately, if the old fool was going to kick the bucket anytime soon.

"And you must swear that you will not try to harm Harry or his friends, in any way, for the... let's say the next twenty years."

"What!" she had shouted out. "It was never my intention to..."

"Come on," he had interrupted her, "I know your taste for scandal and I know that mine will not be enough. But I think that waiting that long will make you understand that there are other ways of living than harming other."

Count on it old loony, had she thought.

"Well," had she replied, pretending to be convinced, "then when do we start the interview? Now?"

"No, you have misunderstood me," had he laughed, "I am not going to tell you the story myself. I don't have the time for that."

"Then how am I supposed to find the story? By myself?"

The old git had stood up and had said:

"Go and visit Bathilda Bagshot. Ask her about my sister Ariana."

"You... have a sister?" she had asked.

But Dumbledore had left without another word.

Then Rita had done what she was the most talented for: she had nosed around, chased up, interviewed, and finally she had found the truth. The whole story. All the excruciating and despicable details. Her book "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore" had been rated immediately as a best-seller in the magic world and had stayed on top for fourteen months. An unprecedented success.

Now, the waiting period of twenty years was finished and Rita could finally land the biggest fish of her career: Harry Potter.

She watched the family cross the barrier leading to Platform ¾ and followed them from afar. There was enough smoke on the platform so that she could come closer without being seen. While listening to their conversation, she was thinking about her third chapter named "Ginny, the trophy wife". It was funny, when you were thinking about it, to realise that this insignificant and impersonal woman was actually very atypical. She had lived her whole life under the spell of her hero, self-effaced and in love. When the war had finished, she had become his official mate and had started a career as professional Quidditch player.

Then what happened to that perfectly boring couple? Ironically, it was the first pregnancy of Mrs Potter who turned them upside down. Rita was convinced that the young woman had never forgiven her husband of forcing her to quit her passion for Quidditch to raise James Sirius. The Boy-Who-Lived didn't want to compromise his rise in the Auror office by being a full-time daddy. He had therefore left all responsibilities to his wife.

Two more kids and ten years later, Ginny had become fed up of being the silly good-looking wife of a war hero. She went to seek comfort by the former assistant trainer of her old team, the Holyhead Harpies: Viktor Krum. What an irony! Krum stealing Potter's wife! It was like living the Triwizard Tournament again.

"Hello!" suddenly shouted Albus Severus.

Rita followed his look and noticed Ron Weasley, his wife and their kids. She pinched her lips, annoyed. She didn't like this family. There was no salacious anecdote, no undisclosed secrets with the Weasley's. She tried all she could but she didn't find anything that could likely be in her book. Not a cheating, not even a flirt outside marriage. They might fight all the time, but they unfortunately really love each other.

The little Rose Weasley looked as terrified to enter Hogwarts as her cousin Albus. But Rita had no doubt that the girl would be in Gryffindor, as she had the same pig-headed temper as her father.

Suddenly, the attention of the whole group was attracted to a family not far away. Rita recognised Draco Malfoy with his son Scorpius and his ex-wife, the transparent and cold Astoria. Their divorce had made a splash in the magic nobility. The official version was that the couple had diverging opinions about the fortune coming from their two families. The story went that Draco wanted to finance projects about schooling for Squibs (the affair caused a scandal, all the more because Scorpius had not shown signs of magic until later on) and Astoria didn't want to hear a word about it.

But Rita was not the kind to listen to gossips, no! She preferred to dig the mud by herself. And what she discovered was taking a large part of the chapters five and six of her book.

All of a sudden, she regretted to have forgotten her camera, when she caught the brief gaze that Potter and Malfoy exchanged. A gaze meaning "I'll see you later" and also "I missed you". Yes, her book was going to kick up a stir when the whole magic world would learn that the old enemies, who had been obsessed by each other during their schooling, had become lovers.

"So that's little Scorpius," said Ron Weasley. "Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

As usual, baboon Weasley had totally missed the point. But for once, he was not the only one: nobody, except herself, was aware of the forbidden relationship. That was going to be a huge scandal!

Rita rubbed her hands and her lips stretched to a maleficent smile, while the ones she was spying were keeping on greeting the people they knew in the crowd. She heard little James talking about a kiss between his cousin Victoire and his dad's godson Ted, but she didn't really pay attention to it. She didn't give a damn about teenage love stories.

Actually, she had exactly what she was looking for: the confirmation that her revelations would come like a bombshell on this whole family. She decided to leave the crowded platform and go back home, to finalize the preface of her book.

It had been twenty years of waiting. And finally, she was going to prove that when it came to gossips, she was the queen. Tomorrow, at the same hour, "Harry Potter or What is left of our hero" would be in the window of every book store of the magical world.

All was well.

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**It has been a great pleasure to write from Rita's point of view. I really enjoyed it and I hope you did too!**

**Reviews?**

_**Loufoca**_


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